


Ready, Aim, Fire

by zeffyamethyst



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Male-Female Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-19 19:42:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2400566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeffyamethyst/pseuds/zeffyamethyst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"<b>PERSONAL ASSISTANT WANTED</b> - Must be able to handle emotionally messed up robots. Must like Artificial Intelligence. No Experience necessary."</p><p>Kate Bishop becomes Tony Stark's PA and they make everyone regret it. Including Fury. <i>Especially</i> Fury.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically an id fic born out of the deep desire to have Kate Bishop in the MCU. And hey, I figure that the Bishops and the Starks must know of each other, right? Right. 
> 
> And as a warning the Steve/Tony is a few chapters away. And it might become Steve/Tony/Someone else depending on how things evolve. 
> 
> All mistakes you see in this are my own.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Kate Bishop and Tony Stark, the best bros ever.

Kate's sister forwards her the ad:

_****_

**PERSONAL ASSISTANT WANTED**  
\- Must be okay with 1am wake up calls  
\- Must be okay with science of the explosive kind  
\- Must be able to handle emotionally messed up robots  
\- Must like Artificial Intelligence  
\- No Experience Necessary

It's weird and it sounds too good to be true, which means it probably is. It also seems pretty skeevy, because the salary they're quoting is ridiculous and no one pays that much for a personal assistant unless they want a _personal_ assistant, if you know what she means. 

She applies anyway, because she's going to go broke in exactly one week and four days and she has almost nothing left to lose. 

Right now, she's living in a shitty little apartment above a not entirely awful pizza shop with a bow, a handful of cash and some clothes to her name. Well, there's also the stray dog that turns up at her door to get fed every Thursday. The only reason she hasn't died of starvation yet is because Mrs Rossi, the owner of the pizza place, sometimes gives her the pizzas with the burnt crusts.

So, yeah, she applies. She figures if the employer turns out to be as creepy as the ad implies, she'll just threaten to break their hands or something. And if they keep going, well,  
they'll just have to learn that she never makes a threat she can't back up.

\+ + +

Aaaaaaand it's Tony Stark. Of course it's Tony Stark.

Tony Stark in a greasy tank-top and pants with holes revealing burned patches of flesh. Tony Stark who is lying on a couch, playing with a tablet and muttering numbers to someone called Jarvis. Tony freaking Stark, whom Dad always loved to use as a prime example of Rich Kids Gone Wrong And Don't You Dare Be Anything Like Him Kate Bishop. 

Well, Kate rationalizes, who else was going to be putting up skeevy ads in the skeeviest part of Brooklyn?

He looks up briefly when she firsts walks in, then does the most obvious double take. "Hey, I know you," he says, peering over the tablet. "How do I know you? Pepper, how do I know her?"

Pepper Potts, Goddess and Queen of Forbes 500, smiles at Kate and says, "Hello, Ms Bishop. Welcome to the interview. Please take a seat." 

Unlike Tony Stark, Ms Potts is wearing a pale grey suit and the most amazing pair of heels to grace the earth. Kate doesn't often suffer shoe envy--it's freaking hard to shoot arrows in heels--but wow, she'd sell her soul for those. They're just that perfect shade of kickass red and give Ms Potts an incredible five inches of height. 

"It's an absolute pleasure to be here, Ms Potts." Kate says, forcibly restraining herself from blurting out every gushing thing she's ever thought about Pepper Potts and Stark Industry's growth under her leadership. Kate is seriously trying not to swoon, but she's had a crush on Pepper Potts for practically all of her adolescent life and it's all very overwhelming. She just wants to close her eyes and just bask in the confidence that Pepper Potts radiates.

Meanwhile, Tony Stark is still talking. Her dad was right, Tony Stark sold his soul to the Devil so he can talk forever. "You're way too young for me to have slept with--what, no, Pep, don't look at me like that. And you resemble me in exactly no way so I am desperately hopeful that you aren't a love-child, God, please do not be a love-child. I've gone thirty-something years without an illegitimate child scandal. At least wait till I'm forty." 

"You turned forty last year," Kate points out.

Tony Stark gasps loudly and dramatically, and falls back into the cushions. "Interview's over, Pep. She's sassing me, I can't have an assistant that sasses me." 

"Tony, shut up," Pepper Potts says calmly and focuses her smile on Kate. "As I'm sure you've realized, the position advertised is that of Mister Stark's assistant. If you get the job you will be the fourth person in as many months to fulfill that role." 

Ms Potts slides a dirty glare Tony Stark's way and Kate gets the feeling there has been many arguments over this. 

The man in question merely shrugs, which makes him either really brave or really dumb. Kate knows he's a certified genius and she was watching the news when he flew through the space portal thing, but she can't help thinking, wow you're so, so, dumb. 

"No one compares to you, Pep," Tony Stark says, all drama and greasy grin. 

"What about Natalie? I thought she was quite good," Ms Potts says with a smile that practically screams danger.

"One, that's not even her name. Two, she stabbed me with a needle, you're not allowed to like her," says Tony, waving his hand. 

Kate eyes him being all smug and talking a mile a minute and mutters, "I'm totally shocked anyone would want to stab you." 

She is so sure he couldn't have heard her that when he immediately turns around and points a finger at her, she freezes. "You're pretty mouthy for a kid. You're what, barely out of college? I had two doctorates when I was your age, what've you got?"

It's almost like he knows exactly what to say to annoy her. Kate folds her arms, tilts her head back to glare down her nose at at him and says, "I have an attitude problem, fifty-nine dollars and thirty cents to my name, and a hell of an aim with a bow and arrow."

"Bow and arrow, eh?" Tony says, grinning like this is the best fun he's had in ages. "I know a guy with all those things too."

Kate knows who she's talking about, of course. Hawkeye. She's watched and re-watched so many youtube videos of him shooting aliens out of the sky so many times it's becoming a problem. There was one clip where he wasn't even looking at the alien he was shooting. God, Kate would kill to have his form. Tony doesn't need to know any of that.

She sits back in the chair and smiles with just a shade of smug superiority, exactly the way her mother would have at a party when she has to talk to someone she hates. "But does he know where to find the best kebab in New York at three in the morning?"

Tony narrows his eyes, focus fixed on her face, then looks down at the tablet and types a few things in as he mutters to himself.

"He does that a lot," Ms Potts says calmly when Kate looks at her for guidance. "Speaking of kebabs at three in the morning, this job will require a lot of flexibility and patience. Tony doesn't keep the most regular of hours and he can, and will, call you at any time of the day. You need to be ready to get here at a moment's notice and may be required to hunt down some very obscure things."

At this point, Kate gives up on trying to pretend this is like any other job interview she's attended (and bombed). There's Tony Stark, getting engine oil all over a leather couch, furiously typing away at his tablet while the CEO of Stark Industries sounds like she's actually trying to warn her away from the job. Well, Kate was never been one to shy away from a challenge.

Smiling confidently at Ms Potts, Kate says, "I'm pretty good at finding things. And I don't exactly keep regular hours myself. I think you'll find I'm uniquely suited to this position."

It's all about faking it until you make it, Kate finds. 

Ms Pott's smile grows wider. "Good. You will also need to try to get him to meetings on time. Your success rate in this won't be a hundred percent, that's fine. I'll accept forty-thr--"

"Kate Bishop!" 

Both Ms Potts and Kate turn to look at Tony, who has sat up now and is pointing a finger at Kate. Well, stabbing. He's stabbing that finger at her.

"Tony!" Ms Potts scolds, like it's an automatic reaction. Which, come to think of it, it probably is.

"Yep, that's my name," Kate says slowly.

Tony puts the tablet down on the table, balancing it on its edge and spins it around to face her.

Kate's not sure what she's expecting but it's not a picture of herself taken right after her father's deposition. She wasn't quite crying in the photo but it had been awfully close. Her mother is in front of her, gazing off frame with a stoic expression that still hurts to look at. Kate's sister is in the frame too but they don't focus on her--she married out of the family earlier that year. No, it's Kate they're talking about in the article accompanying the picture; the heading of which is, 'What's going to happen to America's Princess now?'

"Knew you looked familiar," Tony crows and it's all Kate can do not to lunge across the distance between them and tear the tablet away.

"Tony! That's enough," Ms Potts says, casting worried looks at Kate.

"Wait, you knew!" Tony says, sounding offended by the idea, and that has Kate's attention swinging her way.

Kate's heart sinks when Ms Potts nods. It's one thing to be offered a job because she would have been good at it--which was kind of the impression Kate was getting--but if Ms Potts had known who she was then, well, then Kate doesn't want pity.

This sucks.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Tony is demanding.

"If you'd attended all the galas and charity balls that I asked you to then you might have recognized her sooner. Really, Tony," Ms Potts snaps.

"But they're so boring," he whines and earns himself another terrifying, eye-watering glare.

God, this sucks so hard.

Kate takes a deep breath and clenches her jaw. She can do this. "Excuse me," she says loudly, cutting through whatever it was Ms Potts is about to say--a part of her is appalled that she interrupted Pepper Potts. They stop firing witty retorts at each other and look at her. Kate swallows hard and squeezes the words out between gritted teeth, "Thanks for everything but I'm retracting my application. I hope you find whoever it is you're looking for."

"Hold up, what the hel--"

"Miss Bishop, please wa--"

But she's already gone, bag and resume in hand.

\+ + + 

It's not like the job was her dream job, she's got higher aspirations than picking up after someone's life but it was a good job and a good pay and _interesting_.

Thing is, though, she's not sure she wants to work anywhere where they'll look at her and only see her father. She doesn't want to be Kate Bishop, Derek Bishop's daughter. She wants to be Kate Bishop; the girl with the wicked aim. She wants to be the girl who gets things done. Maybe she should move to L.A., Dad's business never expanded to the West Coast, that was meant to be next year.

Cassie, Kate's best girl Cassie, just sighs when Kate tells her this. "Kate, you love New York, and your mother and sister are here. Also, you hate the sun."

"I could change my mind," Kate says, curled up on her bed and flipping through the stack of bills she needs to pay by the end of the week. There are a lot.

Maybe if she tells Mrs Scarletti about her job hunt she might be able to get the rent pushed back a couple of days, which doesn't actually solve anything but it's a couple of days where she can phone around and see if any of her friends has a free couch. Life's not at such a low point that she needs to involve her sister or mother but if Mrs Scarletti's not down with the idea she might really have to break her number one rule.

Kate wishes people had told her being an adult sucked this hard.

Cassie makes a not entirely agreeable noise and changes topic. "How was the interview?"

"Could've gone better," Kate admits. 

"Kate," Cassie says with a preceding sigh. "Do you need a lawyer?"

Kate grins. And this is why Cassie's her forever best girl. Cassie never asks her if she's alright, the assumption being that Kate is capable of looking after herself. She does, however, have bail money and a list of some of the best lawyers in New York on her phone. Because 'alright' doesn't necessarily mean 'not in jail.'

"Probably not?" Kate guesses. "Unless Tony Stark wants to sue me for being a smartass."

The other end of the line goes worryingly silent. "Tony Stark," says Cassie, carefully like she might summon the man by mentioning his name. Or like she's not sure if Kate's all there.

"Oh yeah, I might have forgotten to mention," Kate says, going quiet with the guilt of the knowledge that maybe she should have mentioned this sooner. "Turns out, that ad was for the position of Stark's assistant." 

In her defense she hasn't actually had a chance to process it, much less think of speaking about it to anyone else.

"I want to be surprised by this but, I mean, I always knew your life was super weird. Wait! Does this mean you met the guy?"

Cassie's voice squeaks right at the end. Figures. Cassie and her dad are Stark geek fans--you actually have to divide the fans into geek and non-geek which tells you everything you ever need to know about Stark in Kate's opinion. "Breathe, Cass. He was kind of an overbearing jerk like we always knew he would be."

"But Stark labs," Cassie says dreamily.

"Overbearing jerk," Kate repeats firmly, her words immediately followed by a loud knock on her apartment door that rattles the surrounding wall.

"What was that?" Cassie asks.

"Um, probably Mister Wisnieski? He wanted to borrow my spade." Kate balance the phone on her shoulder as she slides off the bed and digs out said gardening implement from underneath.

"You live in an apartment in New York," Cassie points out. "I don't understand why you have a spade."

"Never know when you need to dig a grave, duh," Kate says as she opens the door, a smile on her face for Mister Wisnieski.

It isn't Mister Wisnieski.

"Uh, Cassie, I'm gonna need to call you back," Kate says, eyeing Tony Stark standing on her doorstep and completely looking out of place. The suit he's wearing probably costs as much as Kate's monthly rent, not to mention the watch and the StarkPhone and the shoes and the everything.

"What, no, tell me. Who is it? Is it your mu--" Cassie's voice abruptly cuts off. She's going to be furious when Kate calls her back.

Tony Stark salutes her with two fingers to his temple, a wide grin taking up most of his face. "Nice place."

"Are you stalking me?" Kate accuses.

Tony shrugs, taking off his sunglasses and tucking them away somewhere. "Some people say stalk, I say looked up your resume. Po-ta-toe, po-tah-toe."

"That's not how it goes."

"Isn't it? You should invite me in. I keep standing out here much longer your neighbors might think I'm some kind of stalker." He looks down at himself. "Or that I'm soliciting your services for nefarious purposes and Pepper will murder me if another 'Tony Stark and prostitute' article comes out before this year's expo."

"Wow, wouldn't want that," Kate says, rolling her eyes. But she does step back and leaves the door open for him.

She's familiar with keeping up reputation and regardless of how she feels about Tony Stark, he's done good work.

"So," Tony says brightly once he's well inside the apartment. "You should come work for me."

"Pass," Kate says, staying right by the door. A smart girl always had an exit strategy and Kate had been smart since she was fifteen.

Tony keeps talking like he hadn't heard. "Great healthcare and dental. A truly filthy amount of expensive 'I'm sorry' shoes or coats or dresses if that's your thing. A StarkPhone--actually every kind of Stark something prototype months before they're out on the market. You look like a girl with good taste in tech. Am I right?"

"Yeah, okay," Kate says, folding her arms, "Call me a girl one more time."

"Young woman then," Tony Stark says promptly, proving that he can be taught. His smile takes a turn for the pleading. "But really, c'mon. Pepper liked you and that's pretty rare."

Kate leans against the door, folding her arms. "Right," she drawls, "And you really expect me to believe that my name doesn't even play a part in your generous decision?"

"You know, I get the whole make a name for yourself schtick, I do. I am _the_ poster boy for daddy issues and defying legacies, but cutting off your nose to spite yourself is pretty stupid." Tony wanders over to her dinner table, shuffling paper and bills around as he talks. He sounds casual, like he's talking about the weather, but job ads aren't that interesting. "You're a smart kid--yeah, yeah, condescending but you gotta admit, you're a kid compared to me--and I want to hire you because you didn't take any of my shit, not during the interview and not today. Does your name have something to do with it? I'd be lying if I said it didn't."

"Then--"

"You're not getting it," he interrupts, holding up a hand. He does meet her eyes then. "Yeah, part of the reason I'm hiring you is because you're a Bishop but that's not all. You're a Bishop trying to be more than the name. You moved out when you were, what, sixteen? Years before the whole thing with your dad. You could've gotten him to pay for your apartment, could've worked for his company or asked him to cash in a favor somewhere else. You didn't. You worked in some dodgy diner, serving tables fifty hours a week. Then in an even dodgier coffee shop."

Kate eyes him. "Thought you said you weren't stalking me."

"I lied," Tony says, grinning again. Thank God, because Kate's not sure she can take much more of mature Tony Stark. It's seriously creepy. "But c'mon. Would it kill you to take the easy path just for now? One fucked up rich kid to another, lemme help you out a little."

It's the way he says 'one fucked up rich kid to another' like he might have some idea of what she's going through. Like he's been where she is--not literally, Kate will eat her favorite hat if he's ever had twenty bucks and a whole lot of debts to his name, but like he knows the exact weight of a surname when you're trying to get away. Like he knows how hard it is to scrape together your own identity when the whole damn world expects you to be a carbon copy of someone else.

"Fine.. Two weeks trial period and you pay for a whole new wardrobe," Kate says.

"Excellent." Tony claps his hands, rubbing them. "Now, you said bow and arrows, right? How do you feel about testing out a few products for me?"

\+ + + 

Her first day, Ms Potts is there to give her a brief introduction to life as the world's most well-paid babysitter. Kate is handed a StarkPad and an ID card that gives her access to every level and every door of Stark Tower. The StarkPad comes loaded with an appointment book for Tony and for Ms Potts, as well as something Ms Potts calls a cheat sheet. It's basically tips and tricks for navigating the enormous corporate machine that is Stark Industries as well as a who's who of SI from the name of the only cleaner Tony lets near his office to the SI board members and their contact details.

Ms Potts explains that her primary job is to keep Tony alive and relatively well by making sure he eats at least one meal a day, sleeps at least four hours and wears something clean in public. Kate will also have to play liaison between Tony and everyone that wants a piece of him because that's what happens when you're a genius, apparently. To that end, Ms Potts gives her a list of government and non-government entity that are chasing after Tony, arranged in order of importance.

Top of the list is SHIELD.

"Uh," Kate says, peering up at Ms Potts. "Aren't these the guys that tried to nuke New York?" That's what the internet says anyway and there's plenty of good evidence for it.

Ms Potts' lips go thin and her jaw visibly tightens. "It's complicated."

Yeah, that sounds about right. 

"Right," Kate says and puts a star next to the name.

Over the next few days, Kate starts making additions of her own to the cheat sheet. Mostly stuff related to dealing with and managing Tony.

Things like; he can and will drink six pots of coffee before even considering actual solid food unless you point out that hypoglycaemia is really unattractive and a coma would just mean he loses hours where he could've been working. And that he considers sleep as something for the weak and the dying, and Tony refuses to be either one of those things. And that Kate has to remind him at least five times to attend meetings and even then it's a bit of a hit and miss depending on whether inspiration strikes. And that if the lab's door is clear it's okay to disturb him, if the lab door is opaque you don't even knock, and no matter what the state of the lab door is if SHIELD is calling he doesn't want to know.

Which is why Kate gets to know Agent Sitwell really well. He sounds nice over the phone. Annoyingly persistent though. The first few times he calls Kate does her best to come up with excuses for why Tony isn't available, by about the sixth day she's given up. 

"Okay, look," Kate interrupts another one of Agent Sitwell's spiels, "You and I both know he's never actually going to give in to your weird stalking behaviour. Can you just maybe tell me what it's about and I'll get him to call you back?"

On the other end, Agent Sitwell splutters and makes noises about confidentiality and state secret and he can't just spill any of that over the phone to anyone who asks.

"Cool," Kate says easily. "Then you can just keep calling every day and I can keep coming with more and more ridiculous excuses. It'll be fun."

There's a short but meaningful pause, then Sitwell says, "What did you say your name was again?"

"Kate, with a K, Bishop."

"Right, let me get back to you."

And Kate thinks, well, that's that.

The next day SHIELD calls again. Kate eyes the 'unknown number' flashing on the screen and decides that she's going to go with lab experiment gone wrong today. Maybe even tentacles to see if Sitwell calls her on such an obvious lie. "Hello, Agent Sitwell," Kate greets.

"Miss Bishop," someone who is definitely _not_ Agent Sitwell says. "Director Fury here."

Well, shit. Cassie is really not going to believe this. Kate does a mental version of screeching to a stop and doing a three point turn. She sits up straight and adopts a much more professional tone because she has a lot of thoughts on SHIELD but they are still an all powerful shady government organisation. "Director Fury, I'm so sorry but Mister Stark isn't available right now."

"Do you have any idea who you're talking to?" Fury asks, sounding amused, which is, y'know, worrying.

"Well, sir, I know you don't pay my wages," Kate says, and her voice doesn't even shake one little bit. "Would you like to leave a message for Mister Stark? I'll get him to call you back when he's next available."

"Uh-huh. Tell him I wanna have a chat about Project Icarus."

At first, Kate is distracted by the fact that coming out of Director Fury's mouth a word as innocuous as 'chat' sounds like a threat, then the rest of it catches up with her. "That sounds like a secret project. Shouldn't you have done a full security clearance on me first?"

"Miss Bishop, what the hell makes you think I haven't," Director Fury says, then drops the phone.

Huh. Well. That's not at all creepy.

About two days later, Tony saunters into the office in a wrinkled suit and with heavy bags under his eyes. He stops by Kate's desk and pulls down his aviators to glare at her. "Fury likes you."

That was not the impression Kate had gotten, but okay, she can roll with that. "I am pretty likeable," Kate says with a bland smile, just for the pleasure of Tony squinting at her suspiciously. "There's a meeting at one o'clock with the R&D department heads if you feel like attending it."

"And if I don't?"

"There's the weekly board member meeting instead if that's more your thing. I'd go with the R&D one personally. There're going to be demonstrations of current projects and maybe a robot battle royale at the end. I thought you could judge the competition and bestow praise on whichever worthy minion catches your fancy. Think about it. Robots."

"Are you bribing me?" Tony asks suspiciously, even though Kate can see the beginning of geek fervor brewing in his eyes.

"Well, duh," Kate says. The monthly meetings with the R&D department is one of those things Ms Potts--Pepper, she told Kate to call her Pepper--had labelled as 'Must Attend' and highlighted in red. She never specified how Kate was supposed to get Tony there.

Tony purses his lips. "Robots you say."

"Robots," Kate agrees, adding jazz hands because why not. 

\+ + + 

"I think it's about time I introduce you to Stark Tower's VIP levels."

"Yeah, if I wanted to visit your bachelor pad, I'd have asked. Sign here."

"You know, most people find me impressive. They are impressed. By me. Tony Stark. Winner of Cleo's Bachelor of the Year five years running. Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist."

"I suppose some people find grey hair attractive but I'm not one of them. Genius, sure but where's my bow? Billionaire, I'll give you that. Playboy, you probably want to retire that unless you want Pepper doing her disappointed glare thing. Philanthropist, eh, it's really the Foundation doing all the work."

"You are actually the meanest PA I've ever had. I think you even beat Pepper."

"Cool. Can you inscribe that on my bow? You know, the one you haven't finished?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to Kep for editing this utter mess.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing: Kate's mama, Lucky and this purple shirt wearing jerk.

At the end of the two week trial Pepper invites Kate into her office for a debrief. Kate promised herself she wouldn't think up the worst possible scenarios but that goes out the window the minute she steps into Pepper's office. 

First thought is, _I'm going to be fired._ Pepper will tell her she didn't make the cut because she didn't get Tony to enough meetings or make him sign enough documents. Just as likely is that she'll be fired for being so rude on the phone, but in her defence if journalists think calling her 'sweetheart' is going to help their case they deserve to be shouted down. 

Pepper smiles when she sees Kate, which helps alleviate some of Kate's anxiety but doesn't make that stomach gnawing sensation go away. Pepper probably also smiles like that when she's leading a hostile takeover. 

They spend a few minutes exchanging pleasantries but thankfully not much more than that. Kate is dangerously close to bursting out with something inappropriate when Pepper's voice takes on a more business-like tone. 

"Alright, I won't beat around the bush. I talked to Tony about how you went. He grunted, shrugged, and said something about bribery." Pepper shrugs at Kate's incredulous stare. "I know but that's Tony for you. What he didn't do is complain about you or call you an idiot savant. He also didn't suggest that you deserve to work for Justin Hammer. So, if you want to stick around, the job is yours."

It's as simple as that. All of Kate's worries erased in five seconds flat, and Kate doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. "That's it?"

"That's it." Pepper's smile returns with an added edge of mischief. "The thing you have to understand about Tony and myself is that we don't believe in wasting time or talent. I already knew three days in that we'd keep you and Tony arrived at the same conclusion a little later. Those two weeks were for your benefit. Now, how do we pass muster?" 

"Uh, yes. Definitely, yes, sign me up," Kate manages to say. Like hell she'd say no that kind of salary, weird science ramble phone calls at three in the morning or not. 

"Good! I'll get legal to send up the contracts and documents we need. Next order of business. What are you hoping to get out of this job?"

It takes Kate an embarrassingly long time to switch her brain from 'holy crap I have a steady job' to 'oh shit Pepper Potts just asked me a question'. "I'm sorry? I don't understand what you mean." 

"You're a very smart girl, Kate, and you're driven. And in your interview you made it very clear you didn't want to coast by on your father's name. Yet, here you are." Pepper sits back in her chair, hands folded in her lap. She has such kind eyes, but there's no mistaking the core of steel that lead to her becoming one of the most powerful women in the world. "Tony told me what he said to convince you but I want to hear your reasons for myself. Did you take the job to tide you over until you get a chance at what you really want? Are you saving up money for college or travel? Or are you thinking of making a career at SI? There's no wrong answer."

Kate hates that phrase because while Pepper might mean it, it doesn't negate the fact there's definitely an acceptable answer. Kate should probably say she wants to work her way up the SI corporate ladder or something about part-time study to help her get a job elsewhere in SI. An answer that shows dedication to the company and a willingness to push herself. It would also be a complete lie but nobody actually tells their new boss the whole truth. Like, _oh yes, I absolutely agree with the company's mission statement and the fact you won't pay me overtime._

Except, she can't help remembering the way Tony had tracked her down to Brooklyn offer her the job. It would have been so much easier for him to cut his losses and hire someone who actually finished the interview. And Pepper, she could have told him no, don't hire the girl who only has a high school qualification to her name. Kate doesn't doubt that other applicants for her position had a college degree and glowing references and sailed through the interview with a smile, and still, they hired _her_. She owes them the truth.

Kate rolls and unrolls the edge of her black business skirt and admits, "I don't really know. I'm not one of those people who has a five year plan, or even a five week one. I needed the money, that's why I applied in the first place. Beyond that? No idea. Definitely not going back to college, that's not for me, um, sorry." 

"Well, that's something," Pepper says slowly, and Kate wants to die a little. Pepper must see that on her face because she hurries to add, "As I said, there's no wrong answer. Thank you for being so honest with me, I know that must have been difficult."

"I don't want you to think I won't do this job to the best of my ability, because I am," Kate says firmly, her chin coming up. "I won't let you or Tony down. I just…"

"Don't know what you want yet," Pepper finishes for her. "That's okay. At least you seem to have an idea of what won't be good for you. Not many people have that kind of insight. You're keeping your options open, and that's a good attitude to have at your age."

"Wow. It sounded way more indecisive in my head," Kate says, honestly impressed by Pepper's way with words. 

Pepper's smile is equal measures of wry and affectionate. "Benefits of an outsider's view and twenty years of being an unofficial PR agent. Take your time to think about things, don't be afraid to ask questions. We'll do another check-in at the three month mark. In the mean time, keep doing what you're doing and welcome to Stark Industry."

\+ + +

**Kate** _(sent at xx/xx/20xx 17:32)_ : heeeeeeeeey, so im keeping the job.

 **Cassie** _(sent at xx/xx/20xx 17:35)_ : congrats! now i'm not saying you should steal one of stark's screwdrivers for me but you should because that's what best friends do for each other. 

**Kate** _(sent at xx/xx/20xx 17:36)_ : ...I'm going to pretend that didn't happen. creeper. celebratory skype mimosa?

 **Cassie** _(sent at xx/xx/20xx 17:38)_ : hot damn skippy.

 **Kate** _(sent at xx/xx/20xx 17:39)_ : I don't know you.

\+ + +

Kate celebrates finally having a steady income by paying off the last of her outstanding bills and having cake for dinner. After which she basically rolled around in her bed looking at her bank statement on her phone for an hour or so.

Tony really hadn't been lying about the truly obscene wage SI pays his PAs. God, the things she could do with all that money if she had a little less sense and zero guilt. 

Instead, she has a Spending Plan, carefully calculated the night she took up Tony's offer. It has daily, weekly and monthly expenditures and a list of things she wants versus the things she needs. This job isn't going to be forever and it never hurts to plan for a rainy day. According to the Kate Bishop Spending Plan (KBSP), with the next paycheck her bank account will be comfortably padded enough that she can afford something fun. Kate just has no idea what.

Kate's struggle with spending money--not a phrase she ever thought she'd have to use--is interrupted by a call from her mother. 

Kate's not ashamed to admit it, the moment she sees 'Mom' on the screen, she drops her phone on the bed and scuttles back until she feels the headboard digging into her back. She doesn't care what Cassie would say, it is completely logical to fear her mother this much, especially given that Kate might have been keeping the new job a secret from her. 

Eleanor Bishop once ruled the socialite elites with an iron fist, and having to rely on her eldest daughter for financial support hasn't slowed her down any. In fact, it's only made her more determined to keep abreast of news as gossip is almost as good a social currency as money. Frankly, Kate is surprised she managed to keep her mother out of the loop for so long. A whole two weeks. And it is totally coming back to bite her in the ass now. 

Really, Kate should just suck it up and take the call. Hey, maybe her mom might even leave her alone after this. Right, and flying pigs. 

As the phone continues blasting out the Darth Vader theme Kate peers over the edge of the bed and cocks an eyebrow at Lucky. "What do you think?"

Lucky yawns, his tongue flopping around, and wags his tail twice. Right. 

Lucky is her dog in the sense that she feeds him sometimes and he occasionally sleeps on the foot of her bed. But if those are the only criteria for owning a dog then technically the whole apartment block owns him. Lucky was hers first though. She rescued him from the literal gutter where complete dickbags of humanity had left him to die, and got him to a vet. He's the reason she was so broke she ended up applying for the PA job. It costs a lot to stitch up a dog and feed him back to a good weight. Kate regrets none of that, not even now.

Feeling like she's on her way to a lynching, Kate picks up the phone. 

"Hey, Mom," Kate greets and settles in for the long haul.

"Kate Bishop, what on earth is this I hear about Tony Stark?" is the first thing her mother says, then continues before Kate can answer.

Ten minutes later she's still going strong, "--You know how your father feels about that man. He's irresponsible and arrogant. All flash and no bang. Not to mention all those women he sleeps with. I'm honestly surprised he doesn't have a sexually transmitted infection named after him yet. You're a Bishop, sweetie, you can do better than running after Stark."

"I think the New York Times might disagree with you there. Since he, you know, saved the city and all."

Wrong response. That sets her mother off on a rant about the stupidity of putting on a metal suit to fight aliens. Kate agrees, it is pretty stupid, but her mother seems to have missed a crucial point. Without Iron Man, without The Avengers, they could easily be re-enacting War of the Worlds right about now. 

Kate stifles the sigh waiting to make its way out and stretches down to scratch Lucky's stomach. 

"--I honestly can't understand what you're doing working for that man, Kate. Well, I haven't been able to understand any of your decisions since--since that unfortunate incident. I know it was very traumatic for you but it's no reason to throw your life away." 

And that would be the signal for Kate to end this call. Given enough time any conversation about Kate's screw ups ends with her mother blaming it all on The Incident. The conversation can only go downhill after that. 

Kate buries her hand in Lucky's fur and drops her head over the edge of the bed. The blood rushing to her head muffless her mother's ongoing rant and makes it easier for Kate to say, "Oops, sorry, Mom. I already promised I'd call Cassie before it's too late. We'll continue this later."

Kate learned young that when it came to managing her mother, the trick is to state your intention and then don't budge an inch. Sooner or later, she'll give in. Today, it takes three and a half minutes before she lets Kate go. 

Kate calls Cassie the very minute her mother gets off the phone. 

Cassie picks up the phone after ten rings, which is not unusual for her. Nor is it unusual to hear metal and heavy things fall off a great height onto hard ground before Cassie's breathless voice says, "Hey, I thought we said mimosas at ten, or did I read the text wrong? Or is it ten already? Crap, I thought I set the alarm. God, I'm sorry, Kate. Dad and I were testing--"

By now, ten years into their friendship, Kate knows better than to interrupt Cassie on a rant. You basically had to ride it out, hope she ran out of air at some point, and seize the small pauses as they came. When Cassie took a gasping breath after expounding the glory of pym particles, Kate jumped.

"Cass, deep breath. It's nine-thirteen now. When was the last time you ate anything?"

The guilty silence on the other end is answer enough. "There was lunch, maybe," Cassie offers. 

This was how their friendship worked; Kate occasionally needed bail money and Cassie needed daily reminders to take a break from science. "Go get some kind of solid food into your stomach. Then we'll booze."

Kat hears Cassie cheerfully abandoning her father then she's back on the phone, talking about...okay, truthfully, Kate isn't paying attention. She usually tries to be an active participant but tonight she let Cassie fill the silence. There's a weird comfort in being talked at by your best friend, and not being expected to answer.

Luckily, Cassie's a champion talker. She talks through warming up potato soup and through grilling a cheese sandwich, and only slows down when she has to eat. They switch to facetime then and Cassie props the phone in a clean bowl, the camera aimed at the top half of her face. 

"You wanna tell me what's going on now?" Cassie asks, blowing on her soup to cool it down.

"Nothing happened," Kate protests, already knowing she's busted. Cassie knows her too well.

Cassie stops mid-blow, cheeks puffed like a chipmunk's, and looks at Kate sceptically. Kate screencaps that face for prosperity. "You are the worst liar," Cassie says. "You're never this quiet. Mum or Sister?"

Kate spills. Whatever. It's Cassie. Kate's always been easy for Cassie.

"--And it was all fine until she mentioned 'The Incident' and how I shouldn't let it ruin my life. I might have hung up on her." Rant over, Kate flops sideway onto the bed with a grunt. . 

"Oh, sweetie, no." Cassie's face goes through a complicated dance of exasperation, sympathy and despair. "She still doesn't know?"

"Negatory." Kate shrugs one shoulder. "If I tell her the whole truth, it'll crush her. At least right now she can blame 'The Incident' for every decision I make that she doesn't agree with. It's no one's fault, right? I'm just...broken. That, she can deal with. Knowing the real reason I left? Not to mention what happened--what I did to Dad?" 

Kate let out a strangled noise, grabbing the tips of her hair and pulling them taut. 

"Kate, you're not broken." Cassie's voice goes soft and cold. That's her serious voice. "And you're the bravest girl I know."

Cassie knows all too well that Kate's incredibly awkward with things like this; the emotions and heartfelt confessions. That she's breaking one of the cardinal rules of their friendship means Kate must look as shit as she feels. Kate opens her mouth to tell Cassie that the only reason she's gotten this far is because of her, but the common-sense part of her brain strangles that urge pretty quickly. It also strangles the urge to make a flippant comment. Cassie deserves better. 

What ends up coming out is a quiet, "Thanks." 

Cassie smiles. "Want to talk about what to get with all that cash before you break out in emotional hives?"

"Oh, God, yes," Kate says, rolling onto her back and holding the phone over her face. Lucky takes that as an invitation to jump on. He circles around on the bed like a freaking cat before deciding to flop down over Kate's stomach. "Oof, stupid dog."

Cassie's eyes light up and she peers down the phone, like she'll get a better view of things if she angles things just right. "Heeeeeeeeey, Lucky! Hi there, sweetie. Who's a good boy?"

"Oh my God, stop enabling him," Kate protests, shoving Lucky's slobbering face away from hers. "Help me first. I sent you a list of things. Tell me what I should get."

"Your list is sad and logical. If you're splurging, it should be illogical and happy. Buy a new bow. Or buy those boots you've spent forever wanting. Or maybe a collar for Lucky."

"He is not my dog," Kate says. Cassie pouts. "You put that face away Cassandra Lang. I'm immune! You can't make me feel guilty about anything."

Cassie purses her lips, tilting her chin down and glowering out from under her brows. She looks just like Sister Mackillop, their high school principal. Kate hasn't thought about her in years. "Katherine Ann Bishop, you little hooligan, wasting your life away," Cassie says in a passable scottish accent, "What on Earth are you going to do with yourself?"

Oh, now Kate remembers why she tries so hard to forget her high school years. "Well, Sister Mackillop," she says perkily, "I thought I'd live my life regretting absolutely nothing despite everyone's effort to make me."

"You should send her an email saying exactly that," Cassie says. 

"Better idea: I should become a superhero," Kate counters. "How hard can it be? Costume, mask, codename, adoration. Excitement every day."

"No pay, no health insurance, broken bones, aliens." 

"You make a compelling point. Non-superheroing lifestyle it is."

\+ + +

As far as Kate can see, the only difference between probationary and not is that Tony no longer calls her to help him with experiments in the middle of the night, he just texts her emojis. Weird, obscure, unrelated emojis. A generous person might say it's a sign of familiarity. Kate suspects he's just too lazy or too involved in his projects to consider wasting time with actual conversation.

That doesn't seem to extend to when she's in the lab, however. There, she can't shut him up.

He introduces her to Stark Tower, as promised. It's still rebuilding from the Chitauri invasion and still sports a lonely A at the top. Her first trip, Tony flings a paper map of the tower at her and then drags her straight to his lab because according to him it's the only level worth visiting. That's where Kate meets JARVIS and the bots. 

It's not the most auspicious of meeting; Kate might have thought the robots were attacking her when they were trying to greet her enthusiastically, and kicked DUM-E over. At which point the other robots actually started attacking her for real while Tony cackles and tries to right DUM-E. JARVIS intervenes at that point and stops Kate from becoming the first victim of proto-Skynet.

Kate tries apologising afterward, but it's too late. 

"Your robots are trying to kill me," Kate tells Tony during another one of their 'let's test this new weapon without any safety on' sessions. 

These sessions inevitably seems to happen at one or two in the morning but after the first couple of call outs, Kate's body had adapted to the early hours. She doesn't even need coffee anymore, Tony's ringtone is enough. 

"Excuse you, Katniss-Lite, my robots are perfectly behaved," Tony says indignantly as he tries to stop Butterfinger waving around the fire extinguisher like a threat. 

When they're not trying to reenact the plot of Portal on her, Kate feels a little sorry for the bots--they seem to live in perpetual fear of things being set on fire. Admittedly, in this particularly case, their fears are well-founded. 

Tony Stark and Co. presents: incendiary arrows. Tony had produced twenty different types for Kate to test, from ones that burrow in deep before going off to arrows that explode on contact. Different types of incendiaries too. Last month they'd performed rigorous testing on grappling hook arrows, and Tony has many, many more in the planning stage. 

"You created murderbots, boss, and I'm not too sure about JARVIS either. He's probably gonna gas me in the lifts one day." Kate waves an arrow at the ceiling. 

"Miss Bishop, rest assured that were I to want you dead, you would never see it coming and it would never be so cliched as gas," JARVIS said in a perfectly pleasant voice. All three robots whir in agreement. 

Kate jabs the arrow upward, widening her eyes at Tony. 

"He's joking! Aren't you, baby," Tony coos, then spins around on his chair, pointing at the wall as he goes past. "C'mon, hurry up and shoot. We haven't got all morning." 

There are five paper targets pinned to the concrete wall, spaced equally apart. Kate is standing at the other end of the lab, twenty feet away. It's a laughably easy shot, but the point was never to test her skills. Tony just needs someone who can shoot a pair of bow and arrow, and was too lazy to come up with a machine when he had a person so readily available. 

"We're totally sure this isn't going to blow a hole in the wall, right?" Kate asks, drawing the first arrow out of the quiver. She balances it on her hand, getting used to the weight of it. About three times heavier than the run of the mill arrow, and most of it centered in the head. 

"Hi, Tony Stark. Merchant of Death. Have we met?" Tony says, holding out a hand as if for Kate to shake. "Tiny dent in the wall, promise. I'll get someone to patch it up before Pep sees it."

"Yeah, _that's_ what I'm worried about," Kate mutters as she nocks the arrow. She pulls and sights down the shaft a few times, trying to gauge how the extra weight will affect the shot. 

The arrow lands on the lower outer rim and explodes on contact. As promised, it leaves a dent behind, the size and shape of a Hulk's fist. "Tiny," Kate says, turning on Tony.

"Comparatively," he says, clicking his fingers at his cohort of robots. U rolls forward--grudgingly, it seems like to Kate--picks up the next arrow and offers it to her. It's a little heavier than the first one, and Kate tries to compensate accordingly.

She overestimates and it lands on the outer rim, top-right corner. This is the time delay version, going off a few seconds later with a loud 'pop' that reminds Kate of firecrackers. Kate cracks her neck, rolls her shoulders and takes a deep breath that she lets out slowly. "Next one," she says, holding out her hand. 

Arrow by arrow, she gets closer to the center and she loses track of time. This is what she loves about archery, the way she can immerse herself in the nock-draw-in-out-release rhythm of it all--occasionally interrupted by the robots changing out ragged targets for new ones . It's her, the bow and arrow, and the targets and not much else matters. The fourteenth arrow lands right smack bang in the middle, creating a neat gouge that encompasses the second and third inner rings as well. The next arrow is the same. Kate bites down on a triumphant smile. It's too early for that yet, she's still got five more to go. 

"You remind me of him," Tony says, apropos of nothing. "Hawkeye."

The sudden interruption to her thought process leaves her frozen mid-action, hand reaching for the next arrow. She blinks and that kickstarts it all again. "Well, yeah, for reasons," Kate says and waggles her bow. 

"Nah, not that." Tony pauses to consider his words. "Not only that. You guys have the same--" he taps his temple and points at Kate. "--Intense eye burning stare when you're looking down a target. Kinda terrifying, just putting it out there." 

"You make no sense," Kate tells him. U gets impatient waiting for her and practically shoves the arrow into her hand. It scolds her with a few pointed chirps then rolls away. 

"You'll understand one day when you're older, grasshopper," Tony says, in that tone of voice that means he thinks he's being funny. "Let's finish up and we'll get….JARVIS, what time is it?"

"It's three forty-five in the morning, sir."

"Breakfast waffles or pancakes? Bacon? All of them?" Tony suggests, already typing away on his tablet. Presumably to find a place that will serve them food at this time of morning--night.

Kate does her awesome shooting thing, Tony does his less awesome snarking thing in the background, and by about four thirty, they're walking out. The robots are cleaning up the area, the act of which seems to involve more bumper car like crashes than seemed necessary, and JARVIS is chugging away at all the data they've collected. 

"The arrows are cool but the weight's a problem," Kate tells Tony over waffles, pancakes and bacon because 'why the fuck can't we have everything' is probably a Stark motto. "They're, what, twice as heavy as the others?"

"One point seven," Tony says. "Give or take. Most of it's in the stabilisers. Packs more boom than the current arrows Hawkeye uses, so needs a bit more security as well."

Kate supposes having your own arrow blow up in your quiver would be embarrassing. And painful. "Wouldn't it be hard to compensate for that extra weight mid-battle? Going from average arrow to that?"

"Probably," Tony says, with a shrug. "But all of Robin Hood's arrows are different weights, so I'm guessing it doesn't bother him all that much." 

Kate's fangirl heart flutters and sighs like a twelve year old girl with a crush. "So, Hawkeye, what's he like?" Kate asks, aiming for casual. 

Tony's smirk tells her she missed casual by a mile. "Too old for you," he says.

Kate gags into her bacon. "Ew, gross. I don't want to tap that. I just want to have his archery babies."

"There's a difference?" 

"Uh, yeah," Kate says with a pitying smile. "You're probably too old to get it. I mean, you're like, forty-two, right?"

"I'm forty!" Tony squawks, hands going to his temple, where the grey roots are starting to show. Kate has honestly never met anyone so determined as Tony to deny the inevitable march of time.

"Close enough," Kate says, shrugging. Sometimes it's so easy to rile Tony up that even knowing better, even knowing that this is all grade school stuff, Kate can't help it. She gets the feeling Tony's playing up his reaction, in kind of the same way he plays up his Asshole Factor in board meetings, but whatever, it just means he's giving her permission. 

"Getting back to the point," she says before Tony can recover. "Hawkeye."

"Oh yeah, you're stubborn. Why do you want to know?" Tony asks, sliding down a little in the bench and curling his fingers at her in a 'come at me bro' gesture. 

Kate ducks her head, suddenly reluctant now that she has to put words to it. It's not what Tony thinks. It's not plain old admiration and fangirl crushing either. The rest of the Avengers, sure. She saw Thor bring a storm of lightning down on the Chitauri and thought, _holy fuck_. Same goes for Black Widow and that footage of her launching off Captain America's shield. Even Iron Man, before discovering Tony Stark was a major dork. But Hawkeye, she watched him shooting down a pair of Chitauri before they can blow up a bus full of kids and thought, _I could do that_. 

She's never thought of her archery as being particularly useful except to calm her down, but since the Battle of New York, every time she lifts her bow she thinks, _I can do that_. 

She shoves some pancakes into her mouth to stall but by time she's finished, she's no closer to coherency. "Cos he's one big 'fuck you' to the laws of physics and gravity. Do you have any idea what I would give to be able to shoot like him? Not to mention the fact that he and Black Widow are both regular human, and they kept up with a super soldier and a god and you--don't let that get to your head, I'm just saying your suit is awesome. So, y'know, I'm a fan but it's more like--like, I dunno." Kate shoves more pancakes in her mouth to make the babbling stop. 

"You want to be as good as him," Tony says. 

Kate looks up at the strange note she hears in his voice. He's not even looking at her, he's tapping away on his phone, as if he's barely paying attention. Kate knows his tricks though, the more casual he sounds and looks, the more it matters. It's empathy, she decides, that's what was in his voice. 

She swallows her mouthful of pancakes and says, "Kinda yeah. It's stupid, I know. Shut up."

"What? No. You can be whatever you want to be," Tony says, then looks appalled.

Kate sympathises. "Did you just quote grade school platitude at me?"

"I take it back. Last five seconds didn't happen. Replace with snarky comment of your own creation," Tony says, panic in his voice. 

"Yeah, mature you freaks me out," Kate says. 

They silently agree that less talking and more food is in order at this point. Kate chokes down a forkful of maple covered bacon and Tony tries to drown himself in a cup of coffee. 

"Hawkeye, though," Tony says, minutes later. "Why aren't I your superheroing role model? Test audiences love Iron Man." 

"Sorry, boss," Kate says with a shrug. "After seeing you covered in extinguisher fluff, the mystery's all gone."

\+ + +

Kate never gets another chance to question Tony about Hawkeye. The next day, Pepper tells Tony he has three days to wrap up the design for the new StarkPhone or else. Kate notices Pepper does that a lot, make vague threats that are scarier than a well-described promise. Tony also finds it all terrifying, clearly, because he puts aside the Avengers inventions and starts blaring ACDC from the speakers, which Kate had worked out is audio code for 'working on Stark Industry stuff'. Two days later, the designs are complete and Tony throws the prototype at Kate to try before faceplanting on a couch and going to sleep.

This is yet another part of Kate's job that wasn't advertised: beta-testing. She's not saying no to a StarkPhone though, glitchy as it is. With a little help from JARVIS, she's come up with a marking sheet for this kind of thing. It ranges from design to user-friendliness to how well it can withstand being thrown against a wall. Kate is brutal with the assessment because she doesn't know how to be otherwise, but Pepper appreciates it, which is all that matters.

Tony is still asleep when she's done, so she leaves the phone and the review on the table and throws a blanket over Tony because she's a good PA like that. Then she goes home and pretty much mimics Tony's faceplanting but in the comfort of her own bed. The next morning, she's woken up by Tony's ringtone--the Richie Rich theme song because Tony is such a sad rich boy it's almost physically painful--but it's Pepper on the line, sounding far too awake for five in the morning. 

"Good morning, Kate. I'm sorry to bother you but I need Tony for the Japan trip so this is a call to let you know you have the next three days off. There shouldn't be any work for you, but you may want to drop in and check with Mrs Arbogast in the mornings." 

Pre-morning redbull Kate is almost as useless as pre-coffee Tony, which is why it takes Kate at least a few seconds to say, "Uh, yes, Miss--Pepper. Do you need me to come in to help Tony get ready?"

"Already taken care of. You can go back to sleep now," Pepper says and Kate can hear the amusement in her voice. 

It takes her almost as long again to realise she should respond. "Yes, Pepper. Good night." 

"Good night, Kate. See you in a few days." 

Kate doesn't remember going back to sleep but she must have because next thing she knows it's seven am and her alarm is beeping. She's halfway to dragging herself out of bed before she remembers the phone call. "Sleep in," she mutters decisively and curls up under the blankets again. 

The thing about unexpected free days is that after cleaning up the apartment and deciding there wasn't enough clothes in the hamper to warrant going down to the laundromat, Kate has no idea what she's going to do with the rest of her day. Cassie is going to be in class and beside, Kate tries to make a point of talking to Cassie only twice a week. More than that and it only reminds Kate that she doesn't have any other friends.

Maybe grocery? She's running out of milk and the only fruit in her fridge is a lonely, well-browned banana. And Lucky could do with a walk, maybe a couple of games of chase the ball in the park too. Kate nods to herself--good plan, Bishop--and goes to get Lucky's new leash. She had given in to Cassie's wheedling and got a collar for Lucky; a plain brown leather thing with his name and the building's address on the tag.

Kate does her usual check before she leaves: keys, check; money, check; phone, check. Now, dog.

The last proves more difficult than anticipated, mostly because Lucky is nowhere to be found. After ten minutes looking around the apartment block, Kate goes knocking on Lucky's usual apartments. He likes the ones with the kids so she starts with Ms Lopez who has three kids and absolutely adores Lucky. 

Josef, the eldest boy, answers the door. He's only fourteen but taller than Kate already. "Nope, haven't seen him," he says when she asks, then turns to his sisters, "Jillie?"

Jillie never speaks much, at least not in Kate's presence, but she nods and points at the apartment at the end of the hallway. As far as Kate knows, that apartment's been empty forever (read: since Mr Boykin died in the bathroom and nobody noticed until the whole floor was rank) but she does recall seeing the "for rent" sign being taken down from the window a few days back. 

It's a bit odd for Lucky to disappear into the apartment of a new person, once bitten, twice shy and all. Kate has a bad feeling about it. 

"Thanks, Jillie," she says a little absently and grips the leash tighter as she walks toward the apartment door. 

She stares at the door for a long moment, then presses her ear against it. Nothing. Not even the sound of someone moving around inside. Weird, because all the doors in this building may as well be made of cardboard, you can hear everything that happens on the other side. Maybe they're out for the day? Then again, how did Lucky get inside?

Just as Kate is trying to come up with a scenario that doesn't involve Lucky walking through solid objects, the door opens with no warning. She stumbles and would have fallen inside if she hadn't grabbed onto the doorway with both hands. 

"I guess some neighbourhood welcome you with casserole, some welcome you with a little spying," a cheerful voice says

Kate straightens up so fast she came dangerously close to giving herself whiplash. "I was not spying!" she protests with all the affront she can muster. "I was looking for my dog." 

"Oh, hey, I get it. Why bother knocking when you can just skulk around," the guy says, grinning. He's about ten, maybe fifteen, years older than Kate and good looking, she supposes. If you like a squashed nose, military hair-cut, and a purple plaid button-up at least a size too big for him. He looks familiar, in the same vague way that Tony reminds Kate of Robert Downey Jr.

"I wasn't skulkin--oomph!" 

The dog-- _her_ dog rushes out the door, his nails clicking on the floor, and barrels into her like a small truck, knocking the breath out of her. "Hey, ow, I am not a thing to tackle," she scolds, to which Lucky replies with a slobbering kiss on her cheek. 

"Thought he was the building's dog," the guy says, reminding Kate they have an audience. 

"Technically, I found him first and brought him back here. So he's my dog. And his name's Lucky," Kate says, more defensively than it probably warrants. There's just something about the guy that rubs her the wrong way, like he's judging her, examining for flaws. And okay, maybe she didn't exactly appreciate the spying comment. He made it sound like she was snooping around when, really, she's just looking out for Lucky.

"Damn, I guess if we're being technical," the guy says in the tone of voice Kate would categorise as Asshole Prime, which is only a shade below Asshole Stark, "I call him pizza dog." 

Kate frowns.

"Cos he's been eating my leftover pizzas for me," the guy adds. "Clint. Clint Barton." 

It takes a few seconds of the guy staring expectantly at her for Kate to realise that's his name. "Kate Bishop," she answers automatically because she was raised right in some matters. "Can dogs eat pizza?" 

She isn't reassured by the blank look Clint gives her. Then, for some reason, they both look down at Lucky like he'd have the answer. Lucky pants up at them, his tail flopping lazily side to side. "Pretty sure if it was gonna kill him, it would've by now," Clint offers. 

Kate opens her mouth to say something like, 'please don't bring your frathouse logic into this' but stops herself. There's snarky and then there's bitchy. And anyway, she had a plan. 

"Well, it's been awesome meeting you," Kate says, wearing a smile that she hopes implies the complete opposite. "But I need to walk the dog now."

"Right. Your dog," Clint says, the corner of his lips tilting up. 

Kate doesn't roll her eyes but it's a very near thing. "I guess I should say welcome to the building," she says and kicks up the wattage of her smile a notch.

Clint's smirk widens--yeah he noticed that she didn't actually welcome him. "Nice to meet you, Kate Bishop."

\+ + +

**Kate** _(sent at xx/xx/20xx 10:14)_ : new guy in the building. total ass.

 **Cassie** _(sent at xx/xx/20xx 10:44)_ : this is how rom coms start.

 **Kate** _(sent at xx/xx/20xx 10:46)_ : lemme just throw up in my mouth thanks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for how long this chapter took. At least chapter 3 is two-thirds written so hopefully it won't be as long for the next one.
> 
> All my love for petra/under-snow who beta'd what was meant to be chapter 2 and said, "you can do better." She's the reason this fic is now 17k and counting. She has not, however, beta'd what is now chapter 2 instead so all mistakes are mine.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr links at the end of fics are a thing now apparently so here: [syncytio](www.syncytio.tumblr.com)


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